Overdue
by Kayfoo
Summary: Modern AU- Enjolras really should learn how to check his email in order to avoid awkward situations like this in the future.


Enjolras mistrusted electronic communication. He preferred to hear something from the source, face-to-face or voice-to-voice. This meant he wasn't up on his emails and had to rely largely on paper syllabi for class work and Combeferre for sudden professorial schedule changes.

On the rare occasions he did check his email, such as when he was expecting a reply from a professor or a message from his mother, he had to delete page after page of spam just to get to any pertinent information. The two minutes he spent reading his email never seemed to make up for the half an hour of cleaning his inbox.

So Saturday night brought about a curly tendril of shame as he read a two-week-old email from the library letting him know his book on the political and social discrimination against minority peoples in Eastern Europe was overdue.

He'd never had an overdue library book before. Enjolras kept meticulous records of everything he borrowed and made sure to return it before it was missed. He had needed the book in question for a blog post he was writing about the ramifications of historical oppression on the current tumultuous mood abroad. He'd had a number of books that he'd read and returned, but this one must have slipped under the pile of junk in one corner of his room and been forgotten about. Enjolras did not keep a clean room because he was never in it; it became more of a large cabinet in which he threw his belonging s to keep them out of the living room where he did most of his work. Courfeyrac, ever the excellent roommate, didn't care as long as the pile never crept out of the boundaries of his doorway. Marius would often cast longing looks at the dust bin and Lysol.

Enjolras read the email over twice, heaved himself out of his chair, dug the book out from its tomb of socks, pulled on a coat, and hurried down the four flights of stairs into the biting January wind. He'd have to return the book before the university library closed at midnight and he incurred another two days of debt. He hoped that no other student had needed the book while he was hoarding it. He turned his collar up against the wind, wishing he'd had the foresight to grab a scarf and gloves.

A five minute hustle later and Enjolras pushed open the library's heavy metal doors and sagged against the nearest wall. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them against the black wool of his jacket, trying to work some feeling back in. He wove his way through tables of studying students and reached the library proper where the gentle humming of computers and click-clack of keyboards interrupted the otherwise perfect silence.

For all the quiet, a line snaked around the front desk almost to the end of the room. Enjolras let his otherwise impeccable posture slump in defeat for a moment. He just wanted to get back to the apartment and drink a very hot, very black cup of coffee. He'd steal one of the cookies that Cosette had made Marius from the tin on the fridge and make Courfeyrac watch a movie with him. It seemed like a _Red Violin_ kind of night.

Well, it wouldn't be any kind of night if this line lasted as long as he thought it might. Enjolras marched to the back of the line, keeping his arms crossed over his chest and his head down.

"If it isn't King Louis the XIV!" came a delighted voice from directly in front of him. Enjolras felt the immediate presence of a headache descend like a black cloud over his temples. "To what do we owe your majesty's radiant presence?" Grantaire stood there in his dark blue puffy coat and lurid red scarf. He had a backpack full of books slung over one arm, and his face was bitten pink from either the cold or the drink. Neither would have surprised Enjolras.

He could handle Grantaire on most days. Enjolras was a magnanimous man with plenty of patience to spare. Tonight, however, he was in no mood to entertain the quarrelsome ramblings of his sometimes friend, oft rival. Rival in what, he did not know. He wasn't even sure if Grantaire knew where the majority of their disagreements originated from. It was like the other man simply enjoyed getting a rise out of him, see him sputter, defensive, at some misinformed remark.

"I'm just returning a book, Grantaire. Same as, apparently, the entire campus." He frowned at the line again, doubly wishing he'd just checked his email more often.

"Really? You mean that in all your punctual perfection even you can stoop so low as to have overdue books?"

"It happens to the best of us."

Grantaire's smile faltered just a little at the edges. "How can the sun be so cold," he said with a small laugh. The girl in front of Grantaire flicked her eyes back toward them in curiosity.

"Stop that," Enjolras grumbled. "Who talks like that? No one. I'm your peer and fellow student; you don't need to treat me like I'm some imperious lord come out of his palace. I'm a poor college kid hoping not to get an additional day's fine and have to skimp off coffee for a week."

"Could have fooled me," said Grantaire, his grin cheering right back up.

They stood in silence for a while, the line moving ahead in tiny crawls and short bursts. Grantaire stood facing him and stepped backwards whenever they moved. Enjolras was taller by several inches, but it was difficult to avoid eye contact. Grantaire's focus was rapt despite the fact that they said nothing for full minutes.

"How's life with Pontmercy?" Grantaire eventually broke the silence. The question sounded like a throwaway, like he didn't really care about the content of the answer so much as the sound of it being said.

"We're not particularly compatible roommates. He can make life awkward sometimes."

"Brings his girl home a lot?" Enjolras was looking over his head but he could hear the grin in his voice.

"Marius Pontmercy is a nice boy with a lot of brains that he isn't always in full command of."

Grantaire let out a guffaw that drew a few stares from the more studious inhabitants of the library. "Harsh."

"But fair."

"Like always." Grantaire turned around just as the librarian cleared her throat to signal that it was his turn at the desk. He unloaded more books onto the counter than it looked possible for one backpack to contain.

"You read all of those?" Enjolras asked, stunned out of silence.

"I am a college student, too, in case you've forgotten," Grantaire replied. He sorted the books into two piles. "Return these, renew these," he said to the disgruntled looking librarian.

"I didn't forget," Enjolras said quietly. He couldn't remember what Grantaire majored in, though. The books on the counter ranged from philosophy to physics to piano sheet music, and Enjolras, who prided himself on a quick mind, could think of no way to synthesize the subjects into an agreeable whole.

After Grantaire got all his books settled, he moved off to the side and began shoving them into his backpack again. Enjolras handed his book over, and the lady scanned it.

"That'll be $2.00," she said. Enjolras passed her his student card to swipe.

"Wow. That's more than two weeks overdue. What were you doing, memorizing it?" asked Grantaire. He had his bag slung over his back again. The pink tinge had cleared off his cheeks, Enjolras noticed. The cold, then, and not alcohol.

Enjolras felt a startling, unwelcome happiness bloom somewhere inside of him.

"No, I'd just forgotten I had it." He accepted his card back and made his way swiftly toward the entrance again. Grantaire had to sprint to keep up with Enjolras' long strides.

"Wait, do you want me to give you a lift back to your apartment?" Grantaire asked. "It's kind of cold, and I'm parked close."

Enjolras turned to look at him and was surprised not to meet his eyes. Grantaire had his face turned slightly to the side, and his cheeks were pink again.

Maybe he had been drinking.

"Are you drunk? Your face is all red. You really shouldn't be driving like that."

Grantaire's eyes snapped to Enjolras' and his mouth dropped open a little bit.

"You know," he said, all traces of humor gone, "I've never met someone so smart who could be so obtuse."

When Enjolras continued to stare blankly at him, Grantaire just sighed and said, "I haven't been drinking. Attribute the blush to the natural color of my face, and let's be done with it. Do you want a ride or not?"

"No, I think I'll walk. There's no sense in using your car's gas on a couple hundred yards."

"Ever the environmentalist," Grantaire said, smile returned.

"Well, if that's all." Enjolras felt stiff and awkward, but that's how he often felt around Grantaire. Some people called Enjolras charming, but more often than not he felt out of place unless he was talking about his passions and his work.

Grantaire shook his head. "Here, Apollo, take this." He looped the scarf off of his own neck and on to Enjolras. "It's cold and your coat kind of sucks. Besides, red's much more your color ."

"I can't take this. It's going to be below freezing all week; you'll need it," Enjolras said. He made to remove and return the scarf, but Grantaire stopped him.

"Return it to me at the next get together, if you want. I own more than one, and I think I'll survive the thirty second walk to my car."

Enjolras made no more moves to take it off.

"Well," said Grantaire, looking at him with drawn brows, "Goodnight, Enjolras." He held out his hand.

"Goodnight, Grantaire." Enjolras placed his palm in the other man's, and they both stood for one long moment. To Enjolras, this felt less like a handshake and more like something intimate and private, but the implications were lost on him.

Grantaire let go of his hand and hurried out the door and into the world. Enjolras basked in the sudden gust of cold wind and waited.

His phone rang, some stupid Japanese jingle that told him Courfeyrac needed him.

"Hello?" he answered with an inexplicably weary voice, like he was Atlas carrying the world and not a man who'd had a simple conversation with another man.

"Where are you? Marius locked himself out of the apartment again and needs you to let him in. I texted you a million times."

"Relax; I needed to go to the library."

"At 10:00pm on a Saturday? There are limits to how studious a dude can be."

"I had a book to return. Why can't you let Marius in?"

"I'm out. Like a normal person. You know. Saturday?"

"Text him and let him know I'm on my way back."

"Alright. He's got Cosette with him, just so you know."

Enjolras groaned and hung up the phone. He loved Cosette dearly, but he wished she and Marius spent a little more of their alone time at her house.

There was nothing to be done about it, however, at least not now. Enjolras pulled the red scarf up a little closer around his neck, shoved his hands into his pockets, and braced himself for another cold walk up the dark, sloping campus hills.


End file.
